Equal Ground
by notsobigblue
Summary: Follows the original in-game story with a little extra spice. Spoilers to Magilou's backstory. Slowburn, but Magivel is endgame. Mostly in Magilou's PoV, but some parts are in Velvet's.
1. Chapter 1

Barely an hour since she'd left Titania, and Velvet was already seconds away from killing someone. The guilty party, in fact, was standing but a few feet away, in the same cabin, on the same ship that was inevitably going to crash into some island, somewhere. She could hear the storm in the distance, and the waves lapping against the ship were already picking up. Regardless of what happened to the ship, though, Velvet _refused_ to accept that she had a chance of dying.

She would get her revenge. Revenge for Laphicet. For Celica, for being used like that. Seres, too, even though she was still technically a part of Celica, but a different entity all the same.

Velvet would get her revenge… _but I don't know if this witch will live through this ship ride with me to see it happen_, Velvet thought, glaring at the blonde who was babbling on about something that the she-daemon was tuning out. _Maybe I could just throw her off the side of the ship. In a storm like this, it would take a while for her body to wash ashore. Even then, why would I care?_

"You know, my daemon dear, I definitely was not expecting my prison break to end up like this," Magilou hummed, hands behind her head and back leaned up against a wall. "I mean, I could've gotten out of that prison whenever I wanted to, but I was just waiting for the right time, you know? Then I hear that some crazy she-daemon was thrown on Titania— in their most secure prison, no less— so I knew _you_ were going to attempt a break some way, somehow. It was all just a matter of when. But still, it was so action-packed—"

"—and yet, you didn't lift a damn finger towards the guards or their Malakhim—"

"—so dramatic—"

"—I can at least give you that one, yeah—"

"—and so heart-wrenching!"

"… How in the hell was that prison break heart-wrenching?" Velvet scoffed. There was still another few minutes until Rokurou would need her help again, so she decided to entertain the exorcist in strange clothes. It was at least some sort of amusement, and if she got some pent up frustration out by punching a wall(or the smug blonde in front of her), then that would just be a bonus in the scheme of things.

"Please," Magilou scoffed, rolling her eyes, "A brute like you would never understand the true beauty of what just happened! You practically used all those poor, innocent—"

"—not so innocent. They were all prisoners if you remember correctly—"

"—souls who didn't deserve to have their strings played to the tune of some catastrophic she-daemon of calamity!" Magilou finished, with a flourish of her hand. "I'll say, though, that was quite the stunt you pulled. Convincing all those helpless morons into thinking they could win a battle that they never had hopes of winning in the first place? What a power move."

"You flatter me," Velvet deadpanned, crossing her arms. "But they were all idiots whose fates were to rot in prison cells for the rest of their lives."

"Better to use what's at your disposal rather than let it lose its shelf life, right?" Magilou hummed, chuckling. "Oh, now that is just _so_ evil. I expected no less of the daemon thrown in that hole of a cell. Good on you for being so nonchalant about using people's lives like that."

"You forget that I'm a daemon. Why would I ever feel bad about using others to get what I want?" When Magilou shrugged, Velvet added, "And besides, we're practically on equal ground."

_That_ got Magilou's attention. "Oh?" The blonde questioned, one eyebrow raised. "What makes you assume that? I mean, let's be real here, sweetcheeks: You're a daemon. We were never on equal ground in the first place, nor will we ever be."

"You're right on that front," Velvet agreed, smirking. "I will always be above a bottom of the barrel exorcist like you."

"I don't know how many times I'll have to correct you in the near future, but get it branded into that thick skull of yours," Magilou sighed, waving a hand lazily in the air. "I'm a _witch_. Not an exorcist. And, for your information, the bottom of the barrel would be the exorcists that you tossed around back in Titania. I'd like to think I'm on the level of a Legate."

"You, a Legate?" Velvet laughed, shaking her head. For all her time in prison, the raven-haired daemon knew little of the workings of the Abbey. But she _did_ know that Legates were definitely one of the more higher up ranks. Just because she was in that cell didn't mean that she couldn't pick up the exorcist gossip, here and there. "I could snap your neck in two seconds, flat."

"Oh, that sounds like a bet waiting to be placed, Velvet cake." Magilou grinned impishly, but it faded into a dramatized pout when the raven-haired daemon headed towards the cabin door. "Boo! Chickening out of a bet, are we?"

"When I don't have any money to my name because both you and I just escaped from the most guarded prison in Midgand? Of course I'm 'chickening out,'" Velvet responded with ease, walking past Magilou without a second glance.

"So that means that when we both have money to our names, you'll reconsider—"

"Not what I meant," Velvet snapped, opening and closing the cabin door behind her.

Magilou huffed, crossing her arms. She was thrown in that prison cell in Titania after staying out of Melchior's clutches for so long, and all thanks to that damned Bienfu. She could've lived out her sentence without looking like she aged a day from the second she was thrown in, and yet…

And yet, here she was, a living escapee from that hell of a prison. For being the most guarded island of crooks in the oh-so-_Holy _Midgand Empire, one would expect that they at least gave their prisoners decent food to eat and semi-comfortable beds to sleep in. But, no, all they had was disgusting slop and water that was so obviously from the ocean that you could still taste the salt and those wooden cots. _Wooden!_ They weren't comfortable at all. They were just— just wood!

Still, that was the theatrical, overdramatic Magilou talking. The one that was just a mask made of orichalcum— impenetrable, unbreakable— and nowhere _near _the true Magilou. The real Magilou didn't give a single damn about the food she forced down her throat, nor did she give a single damn about the wooden cot she slept on, or those rags that the guards called "blankets."

What a joke her life had turned into, and it was all thanks to her closest friend who stabbed her in the back, then got her thrown into prison. Now, she was almost as powerless as she was Malak-less, and that does not a strong, intimidating witch make. She could still do a few aesthetically pleasing tricks here and there, but the strong spells that packed a mean punch came with the package of a Malak. That Malak was Bienfu, but, lo and behold, he was nowhere in sight.

Well, no use in mulling over it when she had all that time in Titania to do the exact same thing.

Speaking of, part of her still couldn't believe that she got out of Titania so easily. She knew better than anyone that if Melchior wanted her to stay there, then she would _stay there_. No arguments, no struggle unless that fucked up old man wanted her to struggle. To_try_ to break free. But here she was, on a ship doomed to crash or sink or literally _not_ make it to any hospitable place, period.

Regardless, the she-daemon Velvet Crowe— who was technically her savior from that hell-hole, but Magilou would never say it out loud— was an interesting character driven on stubbornness and… something else, perhaps? Magilou couldn't judge, but she seemed quite young for such a powerful daemon. Then again, Rokurou was also thrown into prison, and he had the same strength as Velvet. They both looked so young, as did Magilou. Looks were deceiving, though, if the blonde had learned anything from her life so far. And she'd learned a lot.

The ship lurched, and thunder crashed outside.

If she only had Bienfu, Magilou would've been able to clear this storm with ease. But that traitor just _had_ to sell her out. Just because the spoiled little Malak didn't like the way they were living now. Said that he'd be better off back with Melchior and the other praetor exorcists. Betraying her for the damned Abbey, of all things! And going back to the place where that old man was, to boot.

Damned fool. Bienfu should've known better than anyone what kind of a monster Melchior was. He was always a monster. Not as bad as the damned Menagerie, at least.

Nothing would ever be as bad as the Menagerie.

The ship lurched again, and Magilou stumbled, her shoulder slamming into a wall of the cabin. She hissed at the sharp sensation of pain. For all the years she's been alive, she never learned a damn thing about how ships worked— well, that was a lie. She had a vague idea of the workings of a ship such as this, but she didn't care enough to help the two daemons on board with her.

There was a part of her that knew that she wouldn't die from a simple boat ride in a storm. She'd been through much worse compared to this: shoved in a cage in the musky storage of a cargo ship, threatened with lashings if she so much as breathed too loud. One would expect that a girl with the title of a witch would at least be treated with some sense of respect.

Not in that morbid Menagerie.

She shook her head. _Think of something else._ Magilou wasn't entirely useless without Bienfu. There was just the problem of her actually caring about the wellbeing of Velvet and Rokurou. Magilou lived by the "survival of the fittest," and she cared about the survival of herself, only. After all her experiences in life, she knew the best course of action was to simply pretend and be the annoyingly happy-go-lucky magic girl with a sick closet of secrets. Who knows how many skeletons were hiding in there.

Magilou would be lying if she said that she hadn't almost lost count once or twice.

_Damnit, distract yourself, you stupid witch!_ Her first order of business would be to find Bienfu. Even then, the first hurdle to jump over to get to the first order of business would be figuring out where the hell he was. If that traitorous rat was true to his word, then he was probably already tethered to another praetor exorcist by now. That would be just her luck, having to deal with more exorcists when she spent a lot of her time post-Melchior surrounded by the fancy white-uniformed exorcists and their enslaved Malakhim.

Magilou hated seeing living beings used as tools, but there wasn't a big enough part in her that cared to do anything. She lived through that same treatment— for much too long, as well— and being able to see Malakhim since she was born wasn't that much of a blessing in disguise, either. Still, it was mostly thanks to Artorius and his little Abbey for the enslavement of Malakhim.

Him, and that bastard Melchior.

"Magilou!" The blonde witch heard Velvet call out her name. "Could use an extra hand out here, to at least delay our crashing into land or something!"

"Our imminent demise, you mean?" Magilou responded under her breath. When she flung open the cabin door, she was immediately met with ice cold pellets of rain, ocean water splashing over the edges of the ship, thunder, and lightning, and—

"I really hate to break it to you two like this," Magilou yelled over the storm, "But we are _definitely_ going to die! No if, ands, or buts about it, this is not a storm that people live through to tell the tale, _especially_when the ship's crew consists of three people that are barely educated on how ships work!"

"Stop being such a whiny pissbaby and help!" Velvet ordered, snapping at Magilou without a second thought. "Maybe if you actually did something other than _complain,_ your chances of death would be lower!"

"_My_ chances of death!? What about your chance of death!? You are fully capable of dying, just the same as me, sweetcheeks! You can't escape death like you escaped Titania! We! Are! Going! To! _Die_!"

"Well, if we're gonna die, can you at least help out, Magilou?! Just a little bit!" Rokurou piped up, his tone a lot nicer than Velvet's. "I know you probably know, like, absolutely nothing about ships, but just help until I can magically crash this ship into land, so we don't drown! Because drowning is _not_ fun!"

"You're telling me," Magilou grumbled, but moved to help nonetheless. Part of her knew that she wasn't going to die here. No, there was too much to accomplish. Being under an oath that also made her practically immortal also had its benefits.

But, just like Velvet, Magilou Mayvin was hellbent on _revenge_. On the old man that destroyed the young Magillanica Lou Mayven, who thought she'd live to see the light of day where she could smile without a care in the world.

Instead, Magillanica died, and Magilou was born from the ashes of that poor, poor girl. And this Phoenix wouldn't stop until she got what she wanted.

And she wanted Melchior dead.


	2. Chapter 2

They were alive.

It was no surprise to Magilou, and she couldn't help but smirk at the fact that, of course, she knew that she wouldn't die. If the world wanted her dead, then she would've been clawed down to the deepest depths of hell years ago.

But she wasn't, and although Magilou would prefer to have the warmth of a thousand flames of hell, her body was resting on a cold bed of snow. With what they'd just went through, colder weather did not help.

After struggling with the boat for another hour or... however long their little sea ride took, Rokurou warned that they were heading towards land, and fast. "If I were you guys, I'd either take cover or hold onto something like your life depends on it!"

"My life already depends on it, Rokurou! I'm a lot more fragile than you thick-skinned daemon brutes!" Magilou yelled back, already grasping onto the railing. "I swear, if I die here then I'm coming back and haunting the both of you!"

And then they crashed.

Now that Magilou thought about it, shouldn't she have multiple broken ribs, scratches, and bruises scattered throughout her body? And yet... there were traces of healing artes that she could feel. The warm, tingly feeling that anyone felt when healing artes were used on them.

Who could've healed her? Those two daemons are more brutes than bishops, and Velvet would probably rather stab herself than heal Magilou. A Malakhim? But what Malak would randomly just come and treat a group of misfits such as her and the other two? Magilou rose from the snow, little flecks and chunks falling off here and there. She cleaned herself off before paying close attention to anything else.

The two daemons were already up and about, discussing something. Magilou's ears perked up when she heard something about a Malak. "Did you know that kid, Velvet?" Rokurou asked, his voice lighter than usual. Softer. What's that about?

"No. I don't know any Malakhim. Not anymore, at least," Velvet responded, brushing the question off with ease. At that, she noticed Magilou was up, and the she-daemon immediately sent a glare her way. "Oh. You're up."

"I can feel the disappointment just as much as I can hear it, Velvet. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, didja?" Magilou smiled, then went along without waiting for a comeback. "I heard you guys talking about a Malakhim. Was that the one who healed us?" Just as she thought, the other two were patched up and ready to go. Rokurou nodded, answering instead of Velvet, who was glaring a hole into the snow. "Do you know if that was an exorcist's Malak?"

"Looked like it. Ran off as soon as I woke up, though," Velvet responded, arms crossed. "Does it matter? Let's get going, or I'll leave you both behind."

"Alright, snappy," Magilou grumbled under her breath, following after the two daemons. Rokurou fell behind to walk with Magilou, as they both felt that Velvet needed some time to breathe. "Why does it seem like she's more explosive than usual?" Her voice was a low whisper, but still loud enough to where she knew that Velvet would hear her.

"Why're you asking me? Shouldn't you be asking Velvet about her temper tantrum?" Rokurou answered, his voice the same volume. "But it might have something to do with that Malak. It's not my place to give you the details, though. If you're that curious—"

"I'm not. I couldn't care less about Velvet's emotional issues; I just wanted to know why she's... like that. We're alive, shouldn't she be as peppy as she can be with that piss poor attitude? But I'll be able to put two and two together, eventually. Magilou's got a knack for reading people," she said, adding a shrug on for good measure.

"Well, Rokurou has a feeling that if you prod too much, you're gonna get your neck snapped by an angry daemon lady."

"An angry daemon lady who's already angry all the time?"

"Well—"

"If you two want to stop talking and actually pay attention to our surroundings, I'd greatly appreciate it," Velvet snapped, arms crossed and a bandaged finger tapping on the blade guard on her other arm. Magilou and Rokurou shared a glance, and the samurai daemon mouthed the words "neck snapped" before picking up his pace to match Velvet's.  
Magilou, on the other hand, didn't give a damn about what Velvet wanted. She wanted to think, and Magilou did that better when a snappy daemon wasn't there to yell at her. Not like she'd be any help in fights, anyway. Not without Bienfu.

But that brought up the topic of that Malak that healed them. Assuming that it was an exorcist's Malak— and a decent one, at that. Especially if it could cure all those wounds for three people— it made Magilou wonder what kind of idiot would go and heal three highly suspicious-looking characters knocked out next to a crashed ship that obviously wasn't theirs.

What sort of moron…?

This exorcist was either naive or stupid— scratch that, this exorcist was naive and stupid. You see a crashed boat, and three passed out people: A samurai, a partially naked girl with an arm wrapped entirely in bandages, and, well... Magilou was Magilou, so of course, she looked highly suspicious.

But still…

Magilou kept her mouth shut about it for the time being, and stayed with her obnoxious personality that kind of annoyed Rokurou and especially irritated Velvet until she parted ways with them to find Bienfu.

Or at least look for the little rat. Knowing Magilou's luck, it probably all ran out when she didn't get her dainty figure mauled and broken this way and that when they crashed into that cliff. Still, she could at least give herself an A for effort in searching for her Malak. If it weren't for her stubbornness, the witch would probably act a little kinder towards Bienfu. He knew about her… history, more than anyone else, maybe besides Grim. But still, Magilou that she could at least be a little friendlier towards the Malak that stayed with her for so long, and yet…

Not her problem if Bienfu betrayed her for the Abbey.

Still, she'd find that little gremlin no matter what even if he was finally tired of her. He wouldn't be the first to abandon her, and he definitely wouldn't be the last: From her parents to members of the Menagerie, to Melchior disowning her after he considered her to be a failure, and now to Bienfu, who'd been her closest friend for the past few decades.

Well, no point in reminiscing and trying to make herself cry thinking about all of her past trauma. Magilou hummed, hopping off the roof of the church in Hellawes, bored of scanning the exorcists for traces of Bienfu.

She'd be a failure of a witch if she couldn't sense her Malak in another, even if her pact with Bienfu was broken. Each Malakhim has a different wavelength, and someone like the great Magilou— who's had high resonance since birth— has a higher affinity of sensing those different wavelengths in Malakhim. Greater Malaks have stronger wavelengths, and the weaker ones are lower, but still easy to detect.

Being especially close to Bienfu, it was easy to sense his specific wavelength. Not being able to sense it gave Magilou the clear conclusion that Bienfu was not in Hellawes, which was the smallest of a setback. Magilou shrugged to herself— regardless of where Bienfu was, it didn't matter if she got him now or later, in an entirely different town. Velvet and Rokurou could handle themselves in a battle, and if she stayed with them, Bienfu would most likely end up in her hands eventually.

But, for now, she'd lay as low as humanly possible with two daemons in her party.

* * *

After an unsuccessful search for her Malak, Magilou appeared by Velvet and Rokurou's side when they were getting rooms for the inn in Hellawes. Neither of them asked where she'd gone, and it was boring. No worried glances, no concerned looks or frowns... no reactions that gave Magilou any amusement, whatsoever.

It was a double-edged blade, sharing a room with Velvet. The she-daemon's cold personality was even more frigid, and Magilou pushing her buttons made things all the tenser. There was one bed, and Magilou called it without a second's hesitation, and Velvet glared at her for a few seconds before giving it up.

Then, Magilou realized that taking the bed was pointless. She rarely ever slept in the company of others, and it wasn't going to start now. Hell, she rarely slept, period. Having a daemon as violent and explosive as Velvet sharing a room with her?

Hell no.

"You know, Velvet, you could really do for a personality makeover. One that would change your snappy self into something... less snappy. And explosive. And unapproachable. And—"

"My personality doesn't matter, as long as I get revenge on who I need to get revenge on. Nothing more, nothing less," Velvet snapped, her back leaned against a wall as Magilou was seated on the bed, comfortable under the covers. "Nothing else matters other than my revenge."

"Ugh. No wonder nobody likes you."

"Sounds like the pot calling the kettle black to me," Velvet responded smoothly, not even glancing at Magilou. "You're less likable than I am, with how annoying and useless you are."

"Well, I—"

"When have you ever helped us in a fight? When have you done anything other than making a stupid comment or joke to attempt to be funny or just to push my buttons? You're an obnoxious, spoiled brat who I'd rather not have tagging along."

"The real question you should be asking is: 'Does Magilou care enough to help you in a fight?' Because to answer your question, I haven't given a single damn about what happens to you or Rokurou. If you couldn't tell, already, I'm only here because you broke me out of prison and successfully got me off of that damned island. I'm only here because I have nothing else better to do than bother a snappy daemon girl that thinks that the world owes her because of all the pain and suffering that she's gone through." Magilou scoffed. "Hate to break it to you, Velvet cake, but the world doesn't owe you shit. Never has, never will."

"I don't think that the world owes me—"

"You sure about that? 'Cause the way you act does say otherwise." Magilou cleared her throat, then began to impersonate Velvet. "Nothing else matters except for getting my revenge. I will use anything to my disposal to get what I want." Then, in her normal voice, "Sounds a lot like someone who thinks that the world owes them for all the strife and pain they've been through. Poor thing."

Next thing Magilou knew, Velvet had jumped towards her with her daemon arm summoned. She was barely even an inch away from getting brutally murdered by a daemon, and yet the blonde didn't even flinch or bat an eye. "If you're gonna kill me, then do it. Regardless of what happens, I'm just a stepping stone along the way to your success, right?"

Velvet settled with slapping Magilou across the face with her human hand, then proceeded to storm out of the room, slamming the door as she left.

The blonde shrugged, shimmied further under the covers, and pretended to sleep, hoping that, somewhere along the way, she'd fall asleep and have a dreamless slumber.

She never did hear Velvet come back into the room that night.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, laying low was not successful. Magilou sighed as she sat in front of Teresa, the platinum-blonde-haired exorcist pacing in front of her. She was going on and on about how her "dearest brother Oscar" was wounded by that "disgusting excuse of a daemon," and Magilou had to stifle a laugh or two.

"You know, she does have a name," Magilou finally interrupted, smirking up at Teresa. "Velvet Crowe is the name of that daemon that wounded your brother. I saw the whole thing, you know. One of Oscar's—"

"You shall address my brother as praetor Oscar, you fiend," Teresa snapped, thrusting her staff's sharp end pointedly at Magilou's throat. "Do not think that I've forgotten that you are that daemon's subordinate—"

"Consul praetor, right?" Magilou interrupted, her voice relaxed. The way that the blonde tensed, her eyebrow furrowing, made Magilou grin. "Both you, Teresa Linares, and your half-brother, Oscar Dragonia, are consul-ranked praetors. You were born out of wedlock by the head of the Dragonia family, and a woman whose identity is unknown. Your mother died when you were young— by "sickness," but it's to be assumed that she was killed off to save the Dragonia family's hide. I'll stop there."

"How did you...?" Teresa questioned, her entire body tense. "How do you know all of that?" The blonde exorcist tried to keep her voice calm but failed miserably.

"Wouldn't you love to know, Praetor Teresa?" Magilou smiled. "But anyway, I'm barely Velvet's subordinate. I'm just here to leech off of her and reach my own goals without really having to work that much. The complete opposite of you exorcists that pretend to do all the work, when, in reality, the Malakhim under your control are slaves to your every order." Magilou grinned, leaning back in the pew she was sitting in, moving her hands to twine behind her head. "But, hey, what do I know about you exorcists? I'm a mere insect in the scheme of things."

"Make another statement like that again, and I'll cut your throat," Teresa threatened, but Magilou could hear the shakiness in her voice. She was scared of the witch sitting in front of her. "How much does she know," is probably what she's wondering right now. Well, hate to break it to you sister, but I know everything. The Abbey's files show all, especially when you're a legate, and I know enough about how the system works to know that you and your brother would be consul-ranked by now. I'm just that good.

"Oh, feisty. Also, not smart of you to threaten the one who has dirt on the daemon you're after. You are using me to bait Velvet out, right?" Teresa's frown deepened. "Typical. She's not stupid, you know. She also couldn't give a rat's ass about what happens to me, too. It doesn't matter if you imprison me again, beat me to a bloody pulp, or even kill me. All she cares about is revenge. Everyone and everything else? Stepping stools on the way to her goal. A shining example of a true daemon, if you ask me."

"Daemon's don't have shining examples," Teresa snapped, still threatening Magilou with the sharp metal of her staff. "They're all rotten to the core."

"I hear you on that one, sister." Teresa arched an eyebrow, and Magilou chuckled, lifting her hands in mock defeat. "Right, sorry. Praetor Teresa. Goodness, you exorcists are all the same, aren't you...?"

"Who are you, even? How did you have all that information on my brother and me?" Teresa practically ordered Magilou to answer with the tone of voice that she had, but the blonde witch wouldn't budge.

"Wouldn't you like to know, girlie?" Magilou's ears perked up, and she heard footsteps quickly making their way towards the chapel door. "Looks like my knight in shining armor is on her way. Have fun dealing with that girl and the other daemon."

"On your feet, criminal." Teresa kept a focused eye on Magilou the entire time as she got up, scanning her person for any move that would harm her. Damn, she seems like she'd survive against Velvet. Poor thing thinks she has a chance against her and Rokurou. She'll barely even last a minute.

"Yeah, yeah. Poke me with that thing, and I won't go any faster, though."

As Magilou guessed, after Rokurou and Velvet destroyed Teresa's Malakhim and destroyed Hellawes'... Hellawes, Velvet didn't think twice about Magilou. Regardless, the blonde witch tagged along, practically sprinting on their impromptu stolen ship. When they successfully sailed away, Magilou mulled over her thoughts, ignoring the annoyed glares that a particular raven-haired daemon was sending her way.

She sensed traces of Bienfu on that crybaby exorcist.

It just gets better and better from here.


End file.
